


At Peace

by kelcat



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelcat/pseuds/kelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy's last moments with Meg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Peace

She was light as a feather, barely weighed anything. When he stopped for a rest, it was more for her than himself. He could have carried her to the end of time if need be.

But this was the end of time, at least for her. Her wound was too grievous, and there was nowhere to take her. All he had thought about when he swept her into his arms was to get her away. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to figure out what to do once they were away. He had known it would end like this, though, and he didn’t want her last moments to be there—amidst the panicked crowd, and the fighting. She deserved a place where she could have a bit of peace.

When she asked for a kiss, he nearly refused—he didn’t deserve such a sweet gift. She was too pure, too beautiful, and he was corrupted beyond redemption. The kiss wasn’t one of heated passion, but it was filled with warmth; each of them putting all of themselves into this one brief moment. He had no words to thank her for the gift she had given him, but perhaps the kiss was enough to make her understand.

When she was gone, he held her tight in his arms, clinging to her as he wept. He wept for the life that had ended far too soon; wept for the beauty that was gone from this world, never to be seen again; he wept for this poor girl who had only known him for a few hours but who had believed in him completely. He wept for himself a little, as well. For the man who he could have become, if only he had had the courage to try. Even if she had lived, he knew he would never have been good enough to deserve her, but he could have tried.

And he wept for Marian. For that other perfect, beautiful women whose life he had snuffed out in a fit of jealousy and rage. He had become convinced in a moment that she had betrayed him utterly, and he could not stand the searing pain that stabbed into his heart. No matter that he had regretted it immediately—the damage was done, beyond repair. Beyond redemption.

There was so much blood on his hands that no amount of water could ever wash clean.

He laid her gently upon the ground, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Be at peace,” he whispered. “For both of us.”


End file.
